


Step into the Light

by howdoyousleep



Series: Step Into the Light [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Feminization, Humiliation, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Minor Character Death, Praise Kink, Rimming, Size Difference, Size Kink, Subspace, Underage Drinking, Underage Thoughts, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-16 19:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep
Summary: He should’ve figured this would happen but what he doesn’t expect is for little Steve Rogers to bite out in an equally sad and gutted tone, “Was thinkin’ maybe it’d be the year you fuck me, it bein’ my birthday and all…”.Christ, there it is. Bucky recoils minutely, mouth curling, eyes flickering closed, at the tone and crass wording. “Baby, don’t be—” Bucky starts to say, unintentionally sounding exasperated, but Steve is right there to object. “No, Bucky—don’t ‘baby’ me. Don’t fuckin’ ‘baby’ me. You can’t do that. That’s not fair,” and all Bucky can do is look away. Steve is correct; he’s got no right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since anything has struck me so much that I felt compelled to write and this one hit me hard.  
There are parts of this that might be uncomfortable for some. There is a large age difference. Bucky has thoughts (nothing explicitly written) about Steve before he is 18. I've never dabbled in this but I made sure to wait until Steve was 18 before anything physical happened between them.  
This is a pairing I've never written. It's kind of a pre-serum Steve but he grows some but not full Cap size. Bucky is big 'ol Bucky. I'll put a pic at the beginning of the story for a visual.  
Decided on two chapters.  
Otherwise enjoy!  
Un-beta'd.

Bucky likes this place. It’s quaint and quiet and just happens to get busy right when he feels the itch to leave, too many people, too much noise. There’s no gaudy bar décor hanging all over the walls, suffocating them, yet there is no obvious theme of any kind. The owner, Clint, makes and effort to make the perfect amount of small talk and refills his glass before Bucky even has to raise a hand or say anything. Bucky likes this place.

He finds himself sitting at the bar in his normal stool in the late afternoon on the 4th of July. He’s earlier than he normally is and avoiding the heavy stuff for fear of the impending loud noises and his questionable and unknown reactions to them. He is sipping on a beer, some local IPA, (fuck if he knows) and in walks Steve Rogers.

Bucky doesn’t even have to turn and look towards the door; he knows it’s Steve Rogers by just the feel in the room and the stutter in his chest. Bucky doesn’t turn, doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t say a word, yet Steve finds him. Of course he does. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the boy make his way over towards him, taking a seat in the stool directly next to him. Their arms gently brush in the quiet movement of Steve adjusting in his stool and Bucky takes a longer swig of his beer to avoid thinking of the tightening clench of his gut.

“Hey, Buck,” the kids says softly and all Bucky can do is nod his head and murmur back, “Hey, kid,” before turning his head to take him in. _Ahh, fuck_. Bucky wants to scream lookin’ at him. He looks like an angel, all creamy skin and sharp angles and plump lips, and Bucky wants to wreck him, always has, always does. Bucky knows Steve isn’t a kid anymore, a grown ass adult in the blink of an eye, but the dusting of summer freckles across the bridge of his proud nose and the sweep of his thick eyelashes make his chest constrict even more. So young, so innocent. So different compared to Bucky.

He loathes that he wants to make this kid cry, wants to break him, to devastate him and make him feel, but he can’t help it. Looking at Steve Rogers makes Bucky want to be a bad man.

Bucky realizes he’s been marveling at the kid for far too long now and flicks his gaze down to the bottle in his grip. He knows why Steve is here, knows why he has worked to search out Bucky in this bar, and he had been hoping and praying he could avoid this. Looks like his luck has long run out.

“S’my birthday,” Steve mumbles, picking at a paper-thin coaster, and Bucky’s heart shatters at the clear vulnerability, the tone that indicates he think Bucky forgot. Like hell he forgot. Before Bucky can even hesitate he turns to Steve and says, “Yeah, sweetheart—I know. Happy Birthday,” and Steve’s cheeks tint pink, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and his lips curl up. This kid—_man_—will be the death of him.

The heaviness of the accepted statement hangs in the air between them, settling over Bucky like an impending illness but over Steve like a blanket of excitement. There is no doubt in Bucky’s mind why Steve is here then. “I’m 21,” Steve casually mentions, turning his lithe body more in Bucky’s direction, and Bucky suddenly feels hot under the collar. It sounds like a celebratory statement to anyone around them but to these two it means something else entirely. Bucky gulps down some more beer, obviously stalling, before meeting the younger man’s move, knees bumping gently. Steve is damn near gnawing a hole through his bottom lip and Bucky fights the urge to cease it, whether it be with his own lips or his fingers.

All Bucky can think to say is, “That’s swell, kid. S’good age,” and inwardly cringes when he sees Steve’s features harden slightly, eyes rolling, breath huffing. He should’ve figured this would happen but what he doesn’t expect is for little Steve Rogers to bite out in an equally sad and gutted tone, “Was thinkin’ maybe it’d be the year you fuck me, it bein’ my birthday and all…”.

_Christ_, there it is. Bucky recoils minutely, mouth curling, eyes flickering closed, at the tone and crass wording. “Baby, don’t be—” Bucky starts to say, unintentionally sounding exasperated, but Steve is right there to object. “No, Bucky—don’t ‘baby’ me. Don’t fuckin’ ‘baby’ me. You can’t do that. That’s not fair,” and all Bucky can do is look away. Steve is correct; he’s got no right. Bucky sighs, deep and centering in the way he’s learned and practiced, burning with the gaze that Steve gives him, skin itchy. Steve is so upset. He can feel it and see it and _fuck_ if he isn’t upset as well.

When Steve was 17, Bucky was 31. The first time he saw Steve he was bringing in boxes up his apartment stairs, struggling to carry a measly two with his frail asthmatic self. He was small and gentle and smiled so brightly at Bucky when he asked if he could help Bucky swore he had never seen sunlight before that moment. He had stammered slightly, blushed even more, and reluctantly accepted Bucky’s help after a few tries. He helped Steve and his terminally ill but fiery as hell mother, Sarah, move into the apartment three doors down that day and Bucky immediately grew fond of their presence in his building and quickly his life. Sarah doted on him like he was her own and Bucky was there to support an look out for her as well.

Bucky also always naturally found himself supporting and looking out for Steve. Bucky was a veteran, a sharp shooter, a man who lived with, now small-scale, PTSD. He lived alone, kept his metaphorical walls up, worked down the street at a local bakery because he didn’t have to work with people and it was a calming environment. He liked the life he struggled to build for himself. Meeting Steve brought a level of intimacy and edge into his life he didn’t know he was craving and missing.

Bucky was there to help Steve study for the SAT, long nights at coffee shops or at Sarah’s rickety and well-worn dining room table. Bucky was there to yank Steve away from fights he had no business being in. He was there to yell at him as he cleaned his split lips and bloody noses. Bucky was there to encourage Steve to pursue his passion for art and to not just pick a major, to follow his heart instead. He was there when Sarah’s health took a turn for the worse, which were the absolute worst days. Those were the days he brought warm food and baked goods to the hospital, where he held Steve as he cried in dim hallways because he didn’t want Sarah to see him shed tears for her.

Throughout his first year of getting to know Steve Rogers, Bucky struggled. He struggled because there was an underlying heat, a rumble of sorts, that Bucky had only reserved for a select few in his past. Bucky struggled because Steve was a kid, so fucking young, and Bucky wasn’t a bad man, a creep, a perv. Bucky struggled because, although Steve was a kid, he was so damn mature and so damn likeable and just fit into Bucky’s life like the perfect puzzle piece.

None of it was okay. Bucky was disgusted with himself when he found his mind wandering to the justifications. _He’s so close to 18. _Yeah, well you’re nearing 40 so what the fuck, Barnes. _He’s achingly obviously into you_. Yeah, you gonna take advantage of that? _He’s so sweet and talented and Christ is he a walking wet dream_. Yeah, well…

Everything grows and mounts to Steve’s 18th birthday. It’s a rough and Bucky is prepared for that; it was Steve’s first birthday without Sarah. What Bucky wasn’t prepared for was for Steve to show up on his doorstep at 1 AM, an hour fresh into eighteen years of age, and throw himself into his arms, onto his lips. And _oh _how Steve had been everything Bucky had ever imagined, even in his inexperienced eagerness: soft, sweet, motivated, eager.

His mouth harshly pressed against Bucky’s, plush lips parting slightly, hands and lithe fingers running along his scalp, tugging at brunette hair. Bucky had groaned, _idiot_, bringing his hands up to cup a strong jaw, and pushed. Heartbroken eyes searched his, frantic, and Bucky was certain he heard the tattered and vulnerable pieces of Steve’s heart clatter to the floor. Words didn’t even need to be said; Steve heard all the unspoken ones.

”_Baby_,” Bucky had started but it wasn’t heard, and if it was, it wasn’t accepted. Steve had turned and ran back into his apartment, door slamming, lock clicking, crying muffled. Bucky stood there for far too long, staring at the floor, wondering if he had made a drastic mistake. Bucky left a cupcake outside of Steve’s door the next morning. Steve didn’t talk to Bucky for two weeks and when he did he was guarded and angry, pretending things were fine even when Bucky wanted to communicate his feelings and reasoning. “Nah, Buck. Don’t worry—I get it.” And that had been that.

Until Steve’s 19th birthday.

One in the morning and Steve was there, banging on his door, much more confident than the previous year. Might have had something to do with the Jack Bucky could taste on his tongue when it manages to slip against his own. Hands grabbed at his shoulders and chest, expecting the fabric of a shirt to grab at instead, groaning when he finds Bucky bare-chested. That year it was Bucky’s turn to push his fingers through silky sun-kissed hair. Both made noises, one desperate and high, the other deep and gutting, and after far too many seconds than acceptable, Bucky was pushing him back against the entryway wall of his apartment, door still wide open.

“_Buck_…” Steve had rasped out, panting and pretty and eager, and Bucky had never heard such a beautiful thing hit his ears before. This kid was somethin’ else. Bucky had resisted the mighty urge to lean back in, suck that plump bottom lip into his own mouth, but instead he placed a chaste kiss to the blonde’s temple.

“Happy Birthday, darlin’,” he had whispered. Steve had been frozen in place, breathing hard, eyes glazed over, and Bucky swore that if he had stayed there another two seconds he would have given in and closed the gap between them. But the hurt in Steve’s eyes was still there and he turned and walked back to his apartment.

And then there was last year and, _oh boy_, what a year it had been.

The year itself had been an…interesting one. Steve was enrolled in college, second year riding through on an art scholarship, much to Bucky’s delight. He still lived in the apartment that he shared with Sarah, close enough to campus that he can walk to classes and back. This was a year that Steve grew, blossomed, in every way: mentally, emotionally, and physically. Steve was always strong, one of the strongest people Bucky had ever known, but the anxiety he lived with became more manageable. His confidence was unshakable, something Bucky admired.

Physically, Steve shot up a few solid inches, easily reaching Bucky’s chin, such a small thing before, and began to fill out. His shoulders, arms, and chest filled out, all lean musculature and softness and it made Bucky want to crumble. He always wanted Steve in every way but _goddamn _seeing him flourish and grow (literally) while still maintaining that boyish charm turned him into the main character in any of his twink fantasies.

Bucky wasn’t the only one to notice the change in Steve or to take notice; plenty of other people had. Part of Steve’s rising confidence came from his growing sexuality and Bucky swore he got off on Bucky knowing he was having regular sex, catching him and whomever in the hallway of their apartment or hearing moans and shouts from a few doors down. _Oh, _and Bucky loathed every second of it for so many different reasons, the main one being he could be that person. _He _could be the one making Steve gasp and moan and chuckle darkly. _He _could be the one to take Steve apart, to feel him underneath his body, to look down at him and stroke his cheek as he swallows around a mouthful of cock.

It almost broke Bucky.

They decided to spend Steve’s birthday together, dinner and videogames, maybe a movie. Bucky was both surprised and disappointed when he didn’t wake up in the early morning to Steve ready to jump him at the door so to truly spend time together on his birthday was something he was looking forward to. Bucky should have known better, should have known Steve would have ulterior motives.

After an insane amount of pizza and wings, beer and Sarah Roger’s chocolate chip cookies (Bucky thought Steve’s face was going to split in two at the smile he gave Bucky when he saw them), the two were in the middle of watching some zombie movie Steve had been dying to watch. This hangout and birthday had felt different, there being an underlying static between them, touches and hugs carrying a new underlying feel to them. Bucky had glanced over to the other side of the couch to find Steve already looking at him, eyes dark, lips bitten red. Bucky didn’t have time to even think “_Oh shit…_” before Steve was crawling into his lap, long limbs awkward in their newness, whining desperately and he was talking, _shit _was he talking.

“_Fuck_, Bucky please. Please fuck me, please. Gimme a chance, I can be so good for you, please. I’m dyin’, _dyin’_. Can’t find anyone that can get you outta my mind, only want you, please please _please_…”

His pleas and desires fell from his lips quickly, hands grabbing and pulling at clothes and skin, hips rolling electrically, so frantic and erotic and—

“Jesus _fuck_, Steve,” Bucky had groaned, gutted, his hands moving up to cup the younger’s face, hips valiantly attempting to not buck up into the writhing body above him. He held Steve at bay, watching through half-lidded eyes the hunger in Steve’s own eyes, taking in his warmth and the feel of him, his soft noises. This is what he had wanted all along, _he _wants to be the person to do this to Steve, but why was he so hesitant still?

“_Baby,”_ he had choked out and Steve was shaking his head frantically already, hands reaching up to grasp at Bucky’s wrists damn near desperately. “No, Buck, don’t. _Please_. I need you. _Please_.” And _fuck _had Bucky had felt so torn, mentally and physically, hung up on their age difference and the feeling that came with it, like he might be taking advantage of Steve. He’s so _young_. And Bucky is so _broken_. Steve deserves to be with someone who he can spend many years with, who won’t wake him up by screaming in the middle of the night, who won’t need time alone, who can take him out on dates in heavily populated public places.

Tears had sprung to Steve’s ocean eyes at his delay and Bucky had leaned in to litter soft kisses all over his cheeks and temple, making soft and soothing noises. There was absolutely no way that they’d get out of this intact.

“Baby, don’t cry. _Shhh_, no no,” Bucky soothed but Steve was near hysterical at that point, crying and leaning into Bucky’s neck, pulling at his shirt. “I can’t keep doing this, I can’t. You’re all I want, I don’t understand, B-Buck.” And _shit _Bucky didn't want there to be underlying reasons and feelings but _fuck_ there wasn't any denying it now; this wasn't just about sex. Bucky had tried to explain his thoughts, his feelings, that he cared for Steve more than anything but couldn’t let him throw his life and romantic opportunities away on him. He was so young and there were so many things wrong with Bucky, broken in so many ways, and that this decision was best.

Steve had cried so hard he fell asleep in Bucky’s arms. When he woke up the next morning Steve had been gone and this time around it took much longer for Steve to talk to him, Bucky not necessarily comprehending that he didn’t deserve to hear from Steve again. He got a Christmas present, an ornament, hung on his doorknob, and he himself received a small cupcake on his doorstep for his birthday. But there was a massive hole in his life since Steve’s last birthday and Bucky ached all over. He missed <strike>his</strike> Steve.

So, seeing him here in the flesh, sitting on this barstool, looking more beautiful than ever, makes Bucky hopeful again. Makes him hopeful but hesitant.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Stevie. I—” Bucky starts but Steve is hyped, riled up and determined and not ready to put up with anymore shit. “I’ve sat around and thrown myself at your feet for years Bucky and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea why I’m here tonight to apparently fuckin’ do it again but—”

“Steve, wait—”

“No, Bucky, shut up, listen—” Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up and he fully turns towards Steve, practically caging him in with his thick thighs, anger spiking. In the rational part of his brain he knows that Steve is more than in the right to lash out at Bucky, to be angry, but he can’t help but get a little upset. And a little turned on honestly.

“I’ve known you for so long, Buck, know you better than anyone else. _Hell_—no one knows me better than you do. And I’m real sick and tired of you pretending you’re doing me a favor by making decisions for us without giving me a chance to make them for myself.”

_Oh._ That isn’t even something that crossed Bucky’s selfish mind. His hand instinctively reaches to grip at Steve’s knee, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. I’ve always cared about you, I lo—,” Bucky’s breath catches and Steve lets out a shaky wet breath before continuing, “I’ve always wanted you and I know you want me too, Buck—_I know you do_,” Bucky feels himself nodding his head minutely, bringing his other hand to come up and wrap around his waist. He does, _god help him_, he does. Steve’s voice has that desperate frantic lilt to it, one that he’s become familiar to hearing on Steve’s birthday.

“I’ll be so good for you, Buck, so good,” Steve starts, and Bucky feels heat pool in his gut and flames lick up his spine immediately. _God, _he knows he would, just knows Steve would be everything and more for him, and he tells him so, stands between his legs, cups his jaw and whispers, “Yeah, yeah, so good, sugar. I know you would be, such a good boy.” Bucky knows he’s taking a chance with that last piece but when Steve looks up at him a nearly sobs on a few breaths he knows he made the right choice.

“I’d be so fuckin’ good, Buck. I’d make you feel so good, been thinkin’ about it for years now.”

“You’re already so good, baby. Always have been. You make me feel good all the time,” he says, kissing along his cheeks as he speaks, attempting to reassure them that he already loves Steve even without him needing to please him sexually, that he doesn’t want Steve to think he only wants him in a sexual way. The blonde brings his hands up to grip Bucky’s hips almost painfully so, hanging onto Bucky’s words just as aggressively so he keeps talking.

“Always make me happy, so proud of you, darlin’. I know I’ve fucked up, have been messin’ this up for years. Been so nervous about you bein’ so young and not wanting to fuck up your life, Steve. For _fucks sake_, I’m 34, baby. You’re, you just turned 21.” Steve pulls Bucky closer at the waist, wrapping what he can of an arm around it, and even that small move feels right.

“Let me make my own fuckin’ choices, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Of course, of course,” he reassures him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Steve’s lips and he feels the fingers gripping his body tighten. He watches as Steve’s eyelids flutter, taking in the moment he’s been waiting so long for, eyes roving over Bucky’s face. He strokes his thumbs over sharp cheekbones, smooth skin. “Take me home, Buck. Fuck me,” he says but Bucky shakes his head, planting a lingering kiss on a set of soft sweet lips.

“No, sugar—Let me take you home and love you.” The noise that leaves Steve’s mouth and the kiss he gets in return give him the answer he’s looking for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it issssss. Like thousands of words of just porn that were way more emotional than I intended...Enjoy!  
Un-beta'd.

Thank fuck their apartment building in close by because Bucky doesn’t know if he’d be able to make it back before needing to pull Steve into a nearby alley to take him apart. Steve’s grip on his hand is like steel, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and Bucky takes the walk back to center himself. He’s thought about this moment a lot, the moment he finally got his hands on Steve with no intention of letting him go. Bucky is a confident lover, always has been, but there is added pressure with finally getting to love on Steve. He wants it to be good, _so good_, especially after Bucky has wasted so much time, their relationship not moving where Steve wants it because of him.

They barely make it up the stairs and into Bucky’s apartment, tripping on a few stairs and chuckling nervously, before he’s pushing the smaller boy against the inside of the door, pressing his body into a slim one, running his hands up to cup Steve’s neck and jaw. “_Fuck_, Bucky,” he moans loudly, gasping and bringing his hands up to run under Bucky’s henley, scratching lightly at the skin there. The older man lets himself groan into the sloppy kisses he presses up Steve’s jaw until he reaches those sinful set of lips.

It’s already overwhelming. Allowing himself to kiss Steve openly and passionately in the way he wants and feeling the other man’s hands and body and tongue against his own; he’s gonna need to slow down if he wants to last. But how is he supposed to slow down when he’s finally got Steve Rogers’s little body under his hands and mouth on his? How can he stop when he’s got Steve Rogers letting out such pretty noises into his mouth, arching into his body, fingers on this stomach and chest?

“_Bucky, _Bucky please I want…_mmm_, I want…” he tries to say but Bucky doesn’t want to let him go, to stop kissing him, hands on either side of his head. “Want what, baby? What do you want?” he asks, kissing and nipping at his jaw and chin, hands stroking down the sides of his neck. Steve whines, high and needy, and Bucky feels it all the way down to his toes. He doesn’t even give Steve a chance to answer, pulling him to walk back towards Bucky’s bedroom, stumbling and stubborn.

“_Fuck_, sugar, been waiting for this forever. Been wanting you all to myself for years now. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Steve, baby,” he murmurs on his lips, kicking open his bedroom door, moving to the bed. Steve is holding on, whimpering into Bucky’s cheek and neck as he practically carries Steve to the bed. He falls to the mattress much more gracefully than he imagined he would, pushing Steve back and falling with him, catching himself with an arm as to not crush little Stevie.

Both of them make their noises of pleasure at feeling one another’s bodies pressed against each other horizontally and sexually, a groan and a mewl, and Bucky already finds himself rolling his hips into the wide V between Steve’s legs. He savors the gasps that hit his ears, soft and sweet, and he reaches for the hem of the blonde’s shirt. “So sweet, baby. Look at ya, sweet as sugar,” Bucky coos and he watches through hooded eyes as a blush blooms across Steve’s high cheekbones, rushing to his neck. He tugs and yanks at Steve’s thin shirt, efficiently removing him of it, tossing it to the floor and—

“_Goddamn, _look at you, baby.”

Steve whines, high and feminine, noise rushing straight to Bucky’s cock, and he’s sliding his thick arm under the arch of Steve’s back, making the bend more prominent, pulling him into his torso. Steve is all lean muscle and creamy skin, little patches of youthful fat mixed with lines and curves of strength. He makes Bucky’s mouth fucking _water_. His lips immediately seek out a pretty pink nipple, laving his tongue over it gently, teasing it between his teeth just as lightly.

“Oh Buck, _ohh oh_,” Steve mewls, breathy and high, grappling at his shoulders and neck, fingers tugging through his bun. The noise is encouraging, extremely so, and Bucky kisses his way across to the next one, nibbling on a delicate collarbone on the way. He can feel Steve trembling beneath his fingers and lips, vibrating and shaking, and this is something that Bucky is already confident he’ll grow addicted to.

“You let other people see you like this, do this to you? Play with your pretty nipples like this, sugar?” Bucky husks out, kissing over one before trailing open-mouthed kisses up the column of Steve’s neck. He’s shaking his head as best he can, chest all flushed, and rushes to say, “_Nonono_, only you, Buck—just you.” It makes Bucky damn near purr into the skin beneath Steve’s ear. “It’s okay, baby, if they did. It’s all okay,” Bucky reassures him but Steve says softly, “Just you,” and Bucky moans. The arm between Steve’s back and the bed slips down to cup a pert ass, and _Christ _is that an ass. Bucky can’t help but dig his fingers into the meat there, pulling Steve up and into the small but pointed roll of his hips.

“_Buck_…” Steve breathes, eyes wide and dark, and Bucky just nods his head, licking and kissing at Steve’s swollen lips. “Yeah, baby. Makin’ me so hard just from lookin’ at you, so pretty, so fuckin’ pretty, Stevie.” Steve’s eyes almost roll back at Bucky’s words combined with his movements and he’s quickly learning just how much the younger man likes praise, to be told he’s pretty and good and sweet, preening like a cat. The feel of their bodies and their erections moving and pushing against each other makes Bucky groan, hand still squeezing at Steve’s ass, lips still running along Steve’s own, his cheek and his chin.

Bucky takes this opportunity to learn, to become a confident lover, everything Steve has wanted and waited for. “You like that, sugar? Bein’ told you’re sweet and pretty? The soft attention?” he asks softly and delightedly watches another added flush rise to his cheeks, a soft and embarrassed noise leaving his lips, but Bucky can’t have that, not when Steve is everything he has ever wanted. “_Mmm_, but honey, I love that. Don’t be embarrassed, love that I get to be sweet on you, love that you get to be my good boy,” he tells Steve in the sensitive skin of his neck, hand that isn’t running through golden hair reaching between them to squeeze and palm at a denim-clad erection.

“_Oh God, _Bucky, please, please,” Steve moans, hands tugging hard at Bucky’s shirt, slim hips pushing up, thighs wide and Bucky takes cue, sitting back and sliding off the bed, yanking his shirt off in one sweep. He barely hears Steve’s appreciative murmur of, “_Fucking hell_,” before lithe fingers are on his belt, working his pants open efficiently while squeezing and tugging at his cock from outside the fabric of his pants. Feeling Steve’s talented hands on an area he has been fantasizing about for so long makes his knees damn near give out. It’s better, _so much fucking better_, than he thought it would feel and he isn’t even touching Bucky’s cock yet.

“Goddamnit baby, Steve, _mmm,_” Bucky moans, cupping his neck and jaw from where the blonde sits on the edge of the bed outside of Bucky’s thighs as Steve opens his pants with frantic hands, tugging on a zipper and yanking open folds of denim. Heat pools in his gut as he watches Steve look up and lock eyes with him, holding onto Steve’s soft face, feeling his hands push down his jeans, run around to cup and squeeze his ass. He can’t help but lean down and press deep wet kisses to Steve’s lips when he hears him moan at finally being able to touch Bucky in the way he wants.

Bucky is licking into his mouth when Steve finally pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, enough so that his cock comes up to almost slap against his hard stomach. And then Steve’s fisting his dick, so tight and hot, and he’s moaning into Bucky’s mouth, just from _touching _Bucky, and Bucky thinks he might pass the fuck out right here on his bedroom floor. “Jesus Christ, Buck, _so fuckin’ big_,” Steve groans into his lips and Bucky can’t help but smirk, puff out his chest, suck Steve’s tongue into his mouth and moan long and low. As if Steve commenting on the size of his dick isn’t hot enough, he lets out a small noise and then asks in an equally small tone, “S’this all for me, D-Daddy? This big fuckin’ cock all for me now?” all while stroking slow and locking eyes and—

Oh fuck. _Oh fuck_.

Bucky lets a punched-out noise leave his mouth, nearly shouting at Steve’s words, and he gasps when he feels Steve’s other hand come up and tug and roll his balls gently. He has little time to process, can’t stall like he has in the past, but he’s on shaky ground now. This is something he’s heard in porn or had random people say to him but hearing Steve say it lights him up inside. It’s right, it makes sense for the two of them together. Having perfect little angel Steve Rogers look up at him with those ocean eyes and those slick red lips, asking Bucky if his cock, _Daddy’s cock_, was all for him while stroking him and playing with his balls? _Holy fuck_.

“_Mmm_, s’that what you want, baby? You want Daddy’s fat cock all to yourself?” Bucky grits out, fingers curling around the back of Steve’s scalp, hot breath that is huffed out by both men mingling between them. Steve whines, deep and low, Bucky hearing and seeing the relief that is evident all over the younger man at how accepting Bucky is to the vulnerable risk he just took. The hand jacking Bucky’s cock falters slightly, Steve letting out a weak sob, “Yes, Daddy yes. Please, _god_, all for me. Make you feel so good,” and Bucky’s gut twists, his cock leaking between delicate fingers.

He’s gonna blow is load all over Steve’s neck and chest, and as appealing as that idea is, he’d much rather make Steve come all over himself instead. He gives one more solid and loud kiss to Steve’s lips before he’s pushing Steve back, letting him fall back into the sheets. The younger man is reluctant to let Bucky’s cock go but settles for leaning up on his elbows to watch him divest himself of his pants, leaving him naked and hard above Steve.

Bucky takes a selfish moment for himself to look Steve over, all smooth skin and an erection trying to break its way out of his jeans. He doesn’t even think twice before he’s bringing his hand up to fist his own cock, slowly, up and down, twisting at the head, smearing precome on the downstroke. Steve whines out a, “_Buck_…” while naturally humping the air above him. “Baby, lemme look at you, lemme look,” Bucky purrs, letting out a surprised huff of air when one of Steve’s hands comes up to squeeze his own erection, squeezing at denim, the other one flitting up to pinch at and twirl a nipple between two fingers. _Goddamn._

“_Oh, sugar. _You like when Daddy watches you? Huh? You like when he can’t help but fuckin’ touch himself lookin’ at his pretty little boy?” Bucky prompts in a light tone, continuing to touch himself and watching with sharp eyes as Steve’s head falls back between his shoulders, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, letting out a soft moan. _What a sight. _

Bucky startles Steve by leaning down over the smaller man’s form and kissing at the soft skin of his belly, fingers simultaneously moving to the button and zipper of his jeans. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, wants Steve naked with him, wants access to everything. Steve is a hot little mess, already writhing on the sheets, wiggling his hips as Bucky tugs tight-as-sin denim down his lithe thighs, letting out soft noises. “_Baby_…” is all Bucky can breathe out when he finally has Steve completely free of all clothing and _shit _Bucky can’t help the groan that rumbles from his chest.

Steve’s a work of art, created by the hand of God himself if Bucky were a believer. As he kneels on the bed, it dipping by Steve’s foot, he picks up his ankle and brings it up to his lips delicately. He feels like he could weep in this moment, cherishing and loving on Steve after all these years, Steve allowing him to do so even after everything he’s put him through. After running his lips and kissing across the delicate bones and skin, he makes his way up Steve’s body slowly, unrushed and gentle, kissing and licking and nipping where he can. Steve’s noises, his pants and gasps, are encouraging music to his ears.

He sucks a small hickey onto the inside of one thigh, kisses open-mouthed over both nipples, pulls a bud between his teeth, licks and nips at the sensitive skin beneath his ear. He memorizes the way Steve reacts to his ministrations and attention, what makes him sigh and what makes him mewl, what makes him shiver and what makes him arch. By the time his bigger body is leaning over Steve’s smaller frame the younger man is almost in tears, gasping and whimpering and Bucky’s heart soars and bursts and _fuck _if he doesn’t love this man.

“_Buck_…” he whimpers, hands coming up to rest in his hair, wrap around his neck, and Bucky hums as he lays his body down fully on top of Steve’s, between his thighs, his body, mind, and soul singing _finally_. _God, _everything feels so right here. He indulges them both and rolls his hips lightly, there being no clothes between the two of them to take away from the feeling of their bodies and cocks rubbing and rutting against one another. “So perfect, Steve. _Fuck_,” he murmurs, sounding much more gutted and emotional than he thought he would. All Steve does is nod his head and whimper into his cheek as Bucky brings his hand up to cup the side of Steve’s neck, no wanting to be away from those fuckin’ lips anymore.

These kisses are much more eager and heated, more tongue and teeth than they are lips and precision. Steve moves his body so much, seeking out Bucky in every way, that Bucky has to hold him down, press more weight into his form and grip his face in his hand tighter. His eagerness excites Bucky, makes him moan and smirk into Steve’s mouth, around his tongue, makes him want to continue to take him apart, to makeup for lost time. “You’re so perfect, baby. _Fuck_, can’t wait to see how pretty you look when you come all over yourself,” Bucky coos, stroking the side of Steve’s face, kissing his sweet lips as he speaks, moaning softly when his words make the other man groan and arch up into Bucky.

“Gonna take you apart with my tongue and my fingers first though. That alright with you?” Bucky rhetorically asks, licking into Steve’s panting mouth once more before he makes his way back down the perfect body underneath him once more. Steve gives a valiant effort in replying, a choked-off “Yeah, o-okay,” making Bucky chuckle into the skin of his sternum. His hands are gripping at the sheets almost violently, knuckles white, and Bucky makes sure to run his lips across one hand on his trek down as a calming gesture.

With Steve’s thighs draped over his shoulders like they belong there the only thing that convinces Bucky he isn’t actually in heaven is the sin of the moment. He laps at and gently suck Steve’s balls into his mouth, almost grinning at the sight of Steve’s perfect cock leaking and jumping, listening to his desperate little noises. A hesitant palm lands in his hair, asking for permission, and Bucky moans with an open-mouthed kiss, “Yeah, honey. _Yeah_.” Steve’s fingers delve through brunette hair, tugging deliciously as he grips thighs that can’t decide it they want to open or close. Bucky hears a curious little “_Oh_…” when he moves his lips a little lower to Steve’s taint. It makes him wonder if anyone’s ever eaten Steve out before and if they haven’t why the fuck not?

“Tell me, baby,” he starts, scooting his wide form down the sheets slightly, still cradling Steve’s thighs, “Is this your messy wet cunt…or your tight little pussy?” Bucky is worried briefly that he didn’t give Steve an option that wasn’t feminine but by the near explosive reaction he gets he think that’s quite alright.

“_Ohhh_, fuck, Bucky. H-holy shit.” Bucky gives Steve’s balls a few kitten licks while he waits, reaches up with his arms to pinch and rub at two hard nipples as he does so. He’s got all the time in the world. He looks up the line of Steve’s sweet little body, pressing kisses along his leaking erection, and watches as Steve tries to bring his brain back online.

“S’my…it’s my p-pussy,” Steve breathes and Bucky hums approvingly, wrapping his lips around the leaking tip of Steve’s cock, sucking and laving at it erotically. Steve cries out, fists his hand in Bucky’s hair more. “Yeah? S’this a sweet little pussy, sugar?” Bucky asks, voice low and affected by Steve’s choice in words. Steve sobs. “Uh-huh, S’my little…pussy, Buck.” Bucky moans, pinching a nipple before bringing his hands to push open Steve’s thighs, dragging his nose back down to his taint and lower.

“_Oh_, honey. But whose pussy is this?” Bucky asks, pushing wide thighs back, giving him a beautiful view of Steve’s pink little hole, the other man whining in embarrassment. Bucky feels like he’s gonna vibrate out of his skin, burst at the seams. “S’it…S’Daddy’s pussy, it’s your p-pussy,” Steve slurs, hands falling to the bed by his slim hips and _oh _does that make Bucky purr. He kisses at Steve’s taint, around his opening, wet and sloppy, slipping his tongue through some, and asks, “Anybody ever eat this sweet pussy out, sugar?”

Steve’s losing simple functioning and Bucky can’t find it in him to care, incredibly turned on at how sensitive his Stevie is, how turned on and in-tune he is. He wonders if Steve has ever dropped into Sub Space with his level of sensitivity. They’ll have to talk about that.

“Mmm, no never,” Steve mumbles. “You want that? You want Daddy to eat this little pussy out? Make it all wet and sloppy?” Bucky asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway. Steve moans some more, much to Bucky’s delight, low as he writhes in the sheets and Bucky’s grip, and begs, “Please, Buck. _Please, Daddy_.” The words aren’t even out of Steve’s mouth entirely before Bucky is eating like it’s his last meal. He doesn’t tease (_he loves to tease_) or ease Steve into it; he runs that flat of his tongue over Steve’s little hole a handful of times, letting the spit collect until he’s happy with the mess. He presses sloppy open-mouthed kisses over said mess and moans when he flicks his tongue rapidly across the furled muscle, Steve almost shrieking.

He knows the first time having your ass eaten out can be confusing and a rollercoaster and extremely pleasurable, so he fully expects those mixed reactions from Steve. But what he doesn’t expect is for Steve to let out such euphoric noises, to run a hand through Bucky’s dark hair, for Steve to pull his own thighs back so Bucky has better access. It makes his own cock throb in the sheets. “_Oh, baby_ you love when I eat this sweet pussy out,” Bucky growls, not even bothering to form it as a question. Steve is letting out high breathy noises, head twisting in the sheets, and Bucky thinks to himself that he could do this forever.

His large hands grip onto the sides of Steve’s ass, tongue flicking and fluttering around his opening, lips closing and moving as well, and he feels like he happily does this for an eternity. He’s groaning at the feel of Steve’s fingers tugging gently on his hair, the feel of his smooth thighs squeezing around his head, skin being rubbed raw by the stubble on his jaw. When he feels like Steve has warmed up enough to licks and kisses, he points his tongue and begins fucking him with it earnestly.

“_Ohhh_, fuck me, Bucky. H-holy shit, ngh _ngh_, Daddy, _oh_,” Steve rambles, high and breathy, gasping between every few words, rolling his hips lightly into Bucky’s mouth and tongue, something he doesn’t even think Steve realizes he’s doing. “Y’wanna watch me eat you out, baby? Watch me make this pussy all wet?” Bucky asks, lips rubbing along skin as he talks, and Steve makes a noise that sounds like it’s been punched out of his chest. “Buck…Bucky, if I look I’ll come. I’ll come so fast,” Steve mumbles and Bucky can’t help the chuckle he lets out into the skin of Steve’s thigh. He lavs over his sweet little hole a few more times, slurping and sucking, bringing his thumbs up to spread him open a little, then says, “Well we can’t have that…”

Bucky comes to the conclusion that there is nothing that gets him more heated and hard than the sight of a blissed out Steve Rogers spread out over his bed, cheeks flushed, cock hard, eyes half-lidded. The sight hits him in the solar plexus, damn near knocking the wind out of him, and in this moment there’s nothing more he wants than to be inside of his sweet boy, watching him reach the tipping points of pleasure, being the one to get him there. He’s so lucky Steve didn’t leave. He’s so lucky he gave him an nth chance.

Steve’s whine, Bucky’s name, pulls him out of his daze and up and over the other man’s trembling body. Steve seeks him out in every way: lips on his neck and mouth, hands clutching his chest and shoulders, torso and cock arching, legs spread. “Open me up, Buck? Get me all ready for Daddy’s fat fuckin’ cock?” Steve asks in a soft voice and _fuck_ that’s nice. He reaches for lube and a condom out of his bedside table, fighting down the grumble from within at needing to use a rubber, and pops the cap eagerly.

Both men are breathing heavily, Bucky even moreso when he covers a few fingertips in the viscous liquid and brings them down to Steve’s wet little hole. “S’cold. Want you close,” Steve cries and Bucky’s heart sings and he complies immediately, lowering himself as close as he can to the younger man, plastering himself to Steve’s side, fingers still between his legs. With a pleased hum from the blonde, Bucky only gives a few presses of one finger before he’s sending it home, pushing through the tight ring of muscle with a moan.

Steve isn’t alarmingly tight, Bucky having worked him over thoroughly, but feeling how warm and snug and now wet he is inside makes Bucky near frantic. He kisses the side of Steve’s face gently, mirroring that gentleness in the movement of his fingers, basking in the soft breathiness of the younger man’s noises. A few little _ngh ngh ngh_s slip through as Bucky slides a second finger in right alongside the first, taking his time as this is when then true stretch begins.

“Taking it so well, honey. Can’t wait to slide into your sweet little body,” Bucky husks out, pumping his fingers and spreading lube all along the inside of Steve’s walls. Steve cries out, bears down on Bucky’s fingers, hotly asks, begs him for another one, a third finger. “Already, baby? So eager?” Bucky teases, stroking slow, and Steve huffs, “Been waitin’ years, jerk,” as he pulses his hips. That’s fair.

When Bucky’s got three thick fingers sliding in and out of Steve’s sweet little ass easily, delirious obvious noises of pleasure flowing from his lips, Bucky can’t take it anymore. He’s ripping a foil packet open like his life depends on it, rolling it on his aching and sensitive cock, (ignoring the pitiful noise Steve lets out at the sight of Bucky putting on condom), and settling between a set of lithe thighs. He slicks himself up with excess lube sloppily, smearing it with his fingers along his length. Little Steve Rogers is panting open-mouthed, leaning up on his elbows to better watch (_sweet Christ)_ as Bucky lines himself up, legs spread ridiculously wide.

“Look at me, baby,” Bucky husks out as the tip of his cock squeezes passed the first ring of muscles, moving to place his hands on either side of Steve’s torso. “Wanna see you, baby. Wanna look at you, _oh shit_,” he explains on the damp skin of Steve’s perfect lips as he slides home slowly, not stopping, drinking in the gasps that the other man lets out, his small exclamations of, “_Oh fuck”, “So big”, _and Bucky’s personal favorite—“_Bucky…”_. He doesn’t even realize he’s moaning low in his chest, near constant, that Steve is kissing at his lips gently and messily and then his groin is pressed against a plush ass and—“_Jesus fucking Christ.” _

Steve’s body crumbles, first with the drop of his head and then with the collapse of his elbows, and Bucky follows the movement, pressing Steve’s little body into the mattress more. Bucky feels like an animal, like he isn’t in control of his body or mind; this is an out-of-body experience. He cradles Steve to him, gentle and tender, one hand on the back of his neck and one cupping one cheek of his ass and he groans out a low “_Babyyy,” _as his hips roll and grind. He sees nothing but stars as a tight little ass grips his cock, grips and sucks him back in with each thrust, so greedy. He litters Steve’s delicate collarbone with little love bites, unable to keep animalistic parts of him at bay, and almost weeps at the noises the younger man lets out.

They sound gutted, overwhelmed, deep, wrung-out. Steve is scrambling to find purchase anywhere on Bucky’s body, his shoulders and jaw and neck and ass. He almost sounds like he’s crying and when Bucky pulls his head back to kiss at high cheekbones he finds them damp. “Sweetheart…” Bucky coos, moving his body, placing his elbows on either side of Steve’s head, caging him in. His thrusts falter but Steve grows frantic, shakes his head, clutching at his back, says, “No, _no_ don’t stop, please. S’good, feels so good, Daddy.” Bucky complies, moaning softly, picking up a brutal pace, and he can’t find it in him to look away from Steve’s face, his ocean eyes, holding his head in place with both palms.

“Just…just love you so much, Buck, _oh fuck_,” Steve wheezes out, gripping onto Bucky’s elbows and Bucky shouts, pure reaction and feeling. He sees tiny Steve Rogers with a busted lip, hurt but content, smug. He sees Steve with charcoal smudges on his skin, that crinkle of concentration between his brows. He sees Steve’s blinding smile with his acceptance letter in hand. He sees Steve Rogers with a completely crumpled sorrowful face as he shows up at Bucky’s door the night after Sarah’s funeral.

He loves Steve. He loves Steve Rogers with his entire being.

“Oh God, Steve. _Steve_. I love you so much, baby, _so much_. I’m so sorry, _I’m so sorry_,” Bucky rambles, their declarations of love spurring his hips on. He’s kissing at Steve’s cheeks and chin, lips and temple, wherever he can reach, his hips moving so harshly he’s scooting Steve up the bed with each thrust. He feels that familiar tight coil in his gut, hot and heavy, and moans when he feels Steve clench down on his cock. “Fuck, Bucky. You’re gonna make me _coooome_,” he wails, hysterical and hot, arching his body into Bucky’s impossibly more.

“Oh, _baby_ I want you to come, I want you to come so bad.”

“Yeah? Y-you want that?” Bucky moans loudly, thrusts pointed and purposeful, making Steve cry out low and long.

“_Fuck yeah_, sugar. Give it to me, want it, need it_, come on_,” Bucky grunts, nipping at Steve’s proud chin as he reaches between their bodies and wraps his fingers around Steve’s leaking cock. His other hand reaches to run through sun-kissed hair, tugging on it as well, and Steve _sobs_.

“Gonna come, gonna _fucking _come, Daddy, _oh god_,” and Steve’s gasping like a fish out of water, eyes rolling back into his head, hands gripping at the meat of Bucky’s ass. Bucky watches, marvels, holds Steve close as he finally _finally _comes apart underneath Bucky, by Bucky’s hands. He coos and kisses his sweet skin, his sweet boy, _so sweet_, listens to his gutted moans and cries as his hands and fingers are coated in sticky release. His mind gets fuzzy and overwhelmed, feeling Steve’s hands push on his ass, spur him on, and is thrusts turn erratic.

“_Come_, m’gonna…baby, Steve I’m gonna—”

“D-do it, Buck. C-come on, please I need…need it.”

_Oh _and then Bucky’s coming, he’s finding that sweet release inside of Steve’s tight little body and he clenches his teeth hard, curls his toes, moans into Steve’s neck. It’s like lightning tearing through his body, pure euphoria, like nothing he’s ever felt before, rolling his whole damn body into the one beneath him, Steve. He might be crying, completely overwhelmed in every way, but he can’t find it in him to care, especially as he looks down into those familiar ocean eyes beaming back up at him.

When the fuzziness clears, deep sighs and smooth kisses shared, Bucky’s smoothing blonde hair out of Steve’s face, kissing the places his fingers tough, complete giddy and blissed out in the post-orgasm haze. There’s no rush, no eagerness to move, and they take the time to look at one another in a way they never have before.

“Hey,” Bucky croaks and Steve huffs. “Hey, Buck.” He runs his nose up the line of Steve’s and breaths him in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, says the only thing that makes sense in the moment—

“I love you.”

Steve tries but fails to hold back his grin, buries his face into Bucky’s neck, and purrs, “I love you too, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
Got a super filthy second part brewing in my head. Stay tuned...  
As always I graciously accept comments, kudos, love, and kindly-worded critiques! And requests!

**Author's Note:**

> Second chapter coming soon! All the smut.  
As always, I adore comments, kudos, love, and kindly-worded critiques. And requests! <3 <3 <3


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